


to the ends of the earth, would you follow me

by PotofCoffee



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotofCoffee/pseuds/PotofCoffee
Summary: If Han has always been the fire in Leia’s life then Amilyn has been the earth. When the flame flickers or wanes she is always glad for that earth, steady and sure. When it is snuffed out entirely, the first thing she reaches for is solid ground.





	to the ends of the earth, would you follow me

**Author's Note:**

> Jackie and I were talking about how Amilyn is the supportive gay we all deserve and then this fic happened.

From just about the very first moment she meets him, Han has always blazed brightly in Leia’s eyes. Though maybe, that’s more to do with the blaster bolt he is stupid enough to fire off in an entirely metal chamber and less to do with him as a person. He is a scoundrel and a criminal and loyal to a fault. He drives her up the wall in the most particular way and yet, it’s almost as if he can tell that that is what Leia needs, that she is tense enough that the anger building inside of her needs an outlet, and so she unleashes it on him in snowy corridors and forest moons and the cockpit of that rust bucket he pretends is a real ship. Han is bright burning flame and it warms Leia to the core.

When she first met Amilyn, Leia never would’ve imagined comparing her—bright hair and garish clothing and manic desire to be close to death—to the solidity of earth. But Amilyn grows up, settles down somewhat, turns into the most dependable person Leia has ever known. No, Leia thinks, that’s not quite fair. Amilyn has always been the most dependable person she’s known, it just takes Leia a while to realise that. It’s odd indeed that the person who grounds Leia the most spends so much of her time convincing her to dangle in mid air supported only by a few long scarves, but that is certainly not the strangest thing in Leia’s life. Amilyn is sure and unwavering, the ground beneath Leia’s feet no matter what is happening in her life.

Leia sits on the soft mossy ground of Endor and kisses Han with all her might. She feels completely eclipsed by joy in the moment, blazing hot joy at the fact that all her work has paid off, all the death and strife has been worth it, and yes at the fact that she gets to kiss this beautiful ridiculous man as much as she wants. It feels then that the fight is over. 

It isn’t. 

They get married there, on Endor, spend the first year of their marriage as much apart as together, taking care of remaining pockets of sympathizers to the Empire and working hard to instill peace across the galaxy. Then they settle down on Hosnian Prime, where Leia is immediately immersed in the task of building a galactic government and Han doesn’t have much to do at all.

They have been married for eighteen months before their first big blowout—the first one large enough that Han stalks away out of the room and Leia knows he’ll be off the planet by nightfall. In some ways it’s amazing that it took this long, they are at any moment as likely to be fighting as to be talking, but they both run a little hot-headed and their bickering is more foreplay than anything else, an excuse to snipe at each other until Han invariably swings Leia into his arms and all is forgotten in favour of kissing and laughing and gloriously good sex. Leia privately thinks that the arguing makes the sex even better.

But somehow amidst all that, tensions still mount and tempers flare and Leia’s exhausted by her work trying to set up the New Republic and Han feels stifled and ignored and it takes barely anything to set them off into the biggest row they’ve ever had. 

After Han has stalked off in a fury, the last place Leia wants to be is in their apartments, they feel all too large now that Han’s presence isn’t there to fill them. So she grabs a cloak to ward off the chill of winter on Hosnian Prime, and sets out in precisely no direction whatsoever. She wanders past the construction of the senatorial complex, pausing to look at how the buildings are coming along. The long single story structure is coming along well, and Leia likes seeing the construction droids at work, building each element with mathematical precision. 

She goes further, ends up near Olreb’s Cafe and decides to step inside. They have a decent selection of Gatalentan teas and Leia could use the comfort of a hot drink right about now. She steps inside, gets in line, looks at the person ahead of her and feels her heart stick in her throat.

There is no way, she thinks, absolutely no way that is possibly her. But still, who else would be that tall and that graceful and be sporting a head of hair that ridiculous shade of orange. Still, she can’t quite bring herself to say her name, just in case it is her, so she reaches out and brushes her hand against her elbow, lightly enough that she will be able to play it off as a mistake if she’s wrong. But then the person is turning around and beaming down on her—how does Leia always forget just how tall she is?—and it is, without a doubt, Amilyn Holdo.

“As I live and breathe,” Leia says, her smile matching Amilyn’s.

“Leia!” Amilyn says joyously, leaning in to hug her tightly, wrapping Leia in her long limbs and Leia is always grateful for the strength of Amilyn’s hugs. 

“Amilyn,” Leia says when they finally separate, “it’s been too long!” It has been; almost a year since they’ve seen each other in person, three or four months since Leia’s had time to send a holo message, let alone sit down for a real conversation over comms. That’s her fault, she knows that, but one of her favourite things about being friends with Amilyn is that it somehow doesn’t matter just how long it’s been since they’ve last spoken, within minutes she’s as comfortable with her as she’s ever been.

“Care to have a cup of tea with me?” Amilyn asks, “if you have the time, that is.”

“I do,” Leia says, “I always have the time for you. And I would love to.”

They get their tea, find a tiny table near the back of the room, and Leia warms her hands on her mug as she listens to Amilyn’s tales of what she’s been doing lately. It’s much the same as Leia, working with the Rebel Alliance to tie up new ends, a mixture of peaceful diplomatic missions, and military endeavours. Leia keeps her talking as long as she can, but eventually the conversation turns her way, Amilyn leans in and speaks in that curiously even tone that Leia used to find disturbing and now finds comforting. 

“How are you, Leia? What led you here, today? You looked unsettled when you came in.”

Leia sighs, sips at her tea for a while, but then lets Amilyn coax the whole sordid tale out of her. Everything that led to the fight and then the fight itself, the hurtful words that had been flung around and then, finally, Han leaving. 

“I think I always knew he would leave,” Leia says, surprising herself with astuteness, “or at least I was always scared he would.”

“He’ll come back,” Amilyn says, as sure about that as Leia has ever heard her be about anything. 

“How do you know?” it sounds plaintive, even to her own ears, but she’s more worried than she realised that Han is gone for good.

“Oh Leia,” Amilyn says, reaching out to grab her hand, smoothing her skin with her thumb, and smiling fondly at her, “he loves you.”

“Love isn’t always enough.” Leia is defiant about this, obtuse, even, but Han stalking off has hit on the deepest of her insecurities, ones she didn’t even know about until it happened. Looks like having your planet blown up in front of you has more lasting effects than one might think.

“It is for you two,” Amilyn says. “It will be, I just know it.”

Leia smiles and thanks her, is grateful that her trust in Amilyn makes her believe what she says. 

“Next time,” Amilyn says, “call me right away and I’ll talk you through it.”

Leia does.

It becomes almost routine, the fighting and the talking it over with Amilyn and the making up. It’s not that she doesn’t love Han because she does, she loves Han more than she could have ever imagined, and she knows he loves her too. But they are not a peaceful pair. It’s Amilyn who suggests that perhaps proximity is their problem, that Han is not used to being tied down and that they would both be much happier if he roams the galaxy instead of staying put. She’s absolutely right about that. Their relationship gets stronger once Han is able to direct much of his attention to the Sabers and Leia gushes to Amilyn about how right she was, about how this was exactly what they needed. Amilyn smiles and nods and Leia wonders if she looks a little sad.

Leia gives birth to Ben, their pride and joy, and for a few years Han sticks around and they reach some sort of peace and it’s nice. Not that they’ve stopped bickering entirely, but most of the time they’re too exhausted getting up at all hours to feed a baby or running after a toddler to do much more than that.

Ben grows up, goes to school and then heads off with Luke to train, and somewhere in there Leia and Han go back to their usual ways. Which means Amilyn and Leia go back to their usual ways, and the pattern is stronger now, undeniable. It’s comforting, at the end of the day, and Leia worries at how much she enjoys it all, at how well this pattern seems to work for her. It’s not supposed to be like this, is it? She thinks of holos and other stories, of how the couple always live happily ever after together, not apart.

She turns forty and Han is across the galaxy for the Sabers (he apologised for that and she believes him, it’s not like her life hasn’t made her busy at inopportune moments before) and so she spends the day with Amilyn, skyfaring and then eating, and then just sitting close on a sofa in Leia’s apartments talking about life.

Leia doesn’t know that she’s going to kiss Amilyn until she’s done it. She doesn’t know until she’s turned and put her hand under her chin and pressed her lips hard against hers. Amilyn kisses her back, soft, gentle, firm, and Leia feels happy and concrete and utterly at peace.

That feeling lasts for all of five minutes, and then she feels absolutely awful.

She agonises over it for days, for weeks, really, until Han comes home. She decides immediately she wants to tell him in person, rather than over a comm unit, but this means that by the time he gets home she is bursting with the information, wracked with the guilt she’s had close at hand ever since it happened. When he arrives she sits him down on the couch and paces in front of him for an age before the words finally come out, the halting declaration that she is the worst wife ever, that she cheated on him, considers trying to excuse her behaviour by explaining that she didn’t mean to, didn’t consciously decide to, but instead she squares her shoulders and waits for his judgement to fall.

Han just smiles.

He asks if she loves Amilyn, and Leia has to admit that she does, even though she didn’t know that before he asked the question. He asks if she enjoyed kissing her, and shame-faced Leia admits that, too.

“It’s okay,” Han says, the very last thing Leia expected him to say, and then he tugs her down into his lap and kisses her and explains to her that multiple relationships are as common on Corellia as monogamy, that he has had friends with as many as seven partners at once, that as far as he is concerned love isn’t, and shouldn’t be, a finite resource. Leia thinks she had heard that, once, but hadn’t really absorbed it as fact, had never considered that she might have enough love in her heart to love two people at once, but when she really thinks about it she wonders how there could be a scenario in which she doesn’t love both of them. Han and Amilyn, the two people she wants in her life more than anyone, and she thinks she might be literally vibrating with joy at the prospect of having them both. 

Amilyn, it seems, is just as calm as Han is about the idea of Leia seeing both of them. 

“I have loved you since we were sixteen,” she confides with her lips close enough to Leia’s temple that she can feel the breath on her skin, “I have always been happy to be in your life in whatever way you see fit.” 

Leia stands on her tiptoes and kisses her, wonders if she has been cursed to only fall in love with people ridiculously taller than her.

She deliberately has Amilyn over before Han leaves again, wants them both in the same room so it doesn’t feel like either is her dirty little secret. They sit together on the sofa and watch a holo, Leia comfortably between them with one hand on Han’s thigh and one hand holding Amilyn’s hand and thinks that this, right here, is paradise.

Paradise only lasts so long. 

Leia leaves the Senate, starts to build the Resistance, and then Luke comes back only to deliver the worst possible news. Her son, her Ben, gone to the dark side. Lost to her and Han in the worst way imaginable. After that, Leia does her best to push them both away. She yells and screams and hurls out every hurtful thought she can muster. Sinks into misery and rage and takes it out on those closest to her. Han goes, Amilyn doesn’t. Han leaves not because of her, not entirely, but because of Ben, and Amilyn stays behind to pick up the pieces. She is a Vice Admiral in the Resistance, fights just as hard as anyone else for the cause, but she spends every moment of spare time at Leia’s side, solid as stone, there to support her through this just as she has supported her through everything else.

Leia cries on Amilyn’s shoulder and knows she doesn’t deserve her and knows she wouldn’t give her up for anything.

Han’s fire in her life has waned, the wound of their son’s betrayal far too deep to be overcome, but Amilyn doesn’t shift for a second. She holds Leia close and asks for nothing and when Leia has healed enough that there is more in her life than fighting and pain, she does her best to repay that support with tenderness and love.

She will never repay her and she will never deserve her but Amilyn doesn’t seem to care. 

The war rages on, they get busier and busier and they are apart more and more. Still, they talk almost every day, see each other as often as they might, and Leia’s life is rebuilt on the solid foundation of Amilyn’s support.

When Han dies, Leia feels breathless and cold, colder than she can ever remember being. It’s like all the warmth has gone out of the world and she is instantly frozen, numb. She wonders if she will ever feel anything else but cold ever again. 

The first thing she does is make sure she gets her troops back from the mission safely, the second thing she does is call Amilyn.

“Han’s dead,” she manages to say, doesn’t know what other words should be used.

“I’ll be there right away,” Amilyn says, disconnects the call, and before Leia even really knows it, Amilyn is there on D’Qar, is there at the base to wrap Leia in warm blankets and hold her close and tell her that, yes, she will be okay and yes, she does have the right to feel this way and yes, Han did love her and yes, Amilyn will be there for as long as she needs her. That is enough.

Amilyn’s support keeps Leia going through the destruction of D’Qar, through being flung out into the vacuum of space, through everything that life has been able to throw at her. 

“May the force be with you, always,” Amilyn says, clasps Leia’s hands in hers, and Leia wishes they were alone, wishes that she could fling herself into Amilyn’s arms and kiss her deeply and beg her not to leave. Or not to stay? Whatever it is that will take Amilyn away from her forever.

Leia watches the searing blue light tear through the First Order fleet, feels the finality of the moment tear through her just as destructively. She reaches out to the nearest bulkhead, leans against it for support and feels her breaths come shallow and quick.

It’s an earthquake, that’s the only way she can describe it. She has been shaken to the core and she wonders if she’ll ever feel like she’s on solid ground again.


End file.
